Maybe Not
by csiAngel
Summary: Post-ep 4x10. This is her opportunity to tell him.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Maybe Not

Rating: K

Summary: Post-ep 4x10. This is her opportunity to tell him.

Disclaimer: I do not own Agents of SHIELD.

 **Spoilers: post-ep 4x10 so spoilers up to there.**

A/N: A little scene that would not leave me be.

… … …

Every time one of the team leaves the room she tells herself that she should do the same. If she doesn't, then, inevitably, just she and Coulson will remain and she knows that, in that scenario, she is likely to give in to the almost overwhelming impulsion to tell him what she has uncovered.

She has spent the evening watching everyone closely, evaluating whether or not they have noticed a difference; judging whether or not anyone already knows – if perhaps it is an element of her return from the dead that they failed to share with her. She doesn't think that is the case. She had already told Daisy that something was off and somehow she knows that it is not as simple as a necessity to keep her alive.

She longs to tell Coulson. She wants them to figure this out together, wants the support and the reassuring words that he has never failed to provide in the past. But therein lies her problem.

She has run the possible explanations through her mind over and over as she has sat in this same corner all night. And no matter how many less terrifying scenarios she has come up with, she cannot shake the feeling that the truth is that she is not Melinda May. She doesn't have her past. She hasn't shared countless moments of comfort with Coulson. When she tells him that truth, he is not going to be thinking about _her_. He is not going to offer _her_ reassurances; he's not going to work with her to figure this out so they can protect _her_. The minute he knows the truth, his thoughts will go to his Melinda. Where is she? How is she? How long has this imposter been in her place? The affection, the hope, the love she has seen in his eyes, particularly in these recent weeks, will vanish completely, replaced by fear, distrust… repulsion.

She is not his. No matter how deeply - how _profoundly_ \- she feels otherwise.

She will lose him the minute she tells him the truth. And, as has always been the case, she cannot bear the thought of losing him.

 _Always_. She almost lets out a sardonic laugh.

…

Lost in her thoughts she has failed to notice that there are only three people in the room now. It is Daisy calling good night to her that breaks her from her distraction. She lifts her hand from the table to offer a semblance of a wave and they are left alone.

She tries to force herself to stand, to make her excuses and go. But, simultaneously, she is forcing herself to stay, to face up to the truth and subsequent consequences. This is a war within herself, and, either way, she's not winning.

Coulson crosses the room and sits down opposite her, a small smile on his lips, though a crease in his brow.

"You okay?" he asks her, not waiting for a response before he adds, "You haven't seemed yourself tonight."

She aims for a reassuring smile. "I'm fine.

"Sore?"

"A little."

They fall into silence but she cannot find comfort in it as she might have before. This is her opportunity. She can tell that he knows something isn't right. Any other worry and she would tell him right now. But as it is…

"May?" he queries, concerned.

"I just… I hate the thought of losing you," she admits, and she hopes that he didn't notice the tiny crack in her voice that she failed to control.

His smile turns sympathetic. "I know. But I'm back."

She simply nods because she can't trust herself to speak.

"Hey," he says, softly, reaching out to lay his hand on top of hers, "You're not going to lose me." He smirks, "You would never let that happen."

She has to roll her eyes at that quip, because that is what he would expect her to do. But the truth of his words resounds more keenly than he will have anticipated. How can she bring herself to initiate the conversation that will cause her to lose him?

She turns her hand over beneath his so she can hold on to him and she tries to quash the fear that is rising through her chest.

He squeezes her fingers – the reassurance and comfort she wants. The reassurance and comfort that will retract when she tells him the truth. She squeezes back, clinging to him, almost desperately.

"Phil –"

"No."

Her eyes dart up to meet his; her heart is pounding; adrenaline surging through her – if, in fact, she has either of those things. She's ready to tell him but…

"I'm not going to let you say it."

She tries not to show her panic and confusion. He can't know what she was going to say. Can he? Then it occurs to her that in all her considerations of her situation, she has never contemplated that maybe the real Melinda May is dead. Maybe she is here because Coulson couldn't face life without her. Maybe only he knows the truth. Maybe she won't lose him. There's a glimmer of hope, because maybe she is the only Melinda May that he can have.

"I know you're scared. I know that there have been too many times recently when you've had to wonder whether or not I'm alive. I know that has been hell for you, and I'm sorry I put you through that. But you told me I should take more chances and I'm ready to do that…"

Maybe not.

"… And I know you're ready too. So I am not going to let your fear stand in our way… You can't bear the thought of losing me and I can't bear the thought of losing you. Because to lose you without ever having told you how I feel would be a regret I'm not sure I could live with. So I am not going to let you talk us out of this. Whatever you were going to say, forget it. I'm not listening."

"Phil –"

"Not listening."

"You need to hear this."

He stands up from his chair. "You need to sleep on it… If you still want to say it in the morning, then I'll listen. But be prepared to be wrong."

"It's not that simple."

He rests one hand on the table in front of her and leans in so his face is merely centimetres from hers. "It's only as complicated as we make it. Take everything else out of the equation. SHIELD, life and death, the team, the past, the future. Right here, right now: What do _you_ want?"

He can't know what a bad choice of emphasis that was. He doesn't know how close she came to making what probably would have been the _right_ choice, and how that one word stopped her. In the future he'll no doubt regret this moment but he's asked her not to think about the future.

He's asked her to think about what _she_ wants, right now.

And, taking everything else out of the equation, the answer really is simple.

"You."

She'll tell him the whole truth another day…

He smiles that confident grin and she can't help but smile back.

… Maybe.

… … …


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This story was intended to be a one shot but then more scenes just wouldn't leave me be. Part one was set after 4.10, so this is now AU as it no longer fits canon.

2.

She had known this moment would be painful. She had known that seeing the hatred in his eyes would crush her heart. But she had underestimated the extent of the agony.

Every ounce of adoration that she has grown so accustomed to seeing in his expression has gone completely. Instead he is staring at her with ice cold intensity – angry; hurt; terrified. Though he would never want to let the latter show, she knows he can't help it.

"Where is she?"

The others have already asked her these questions. She knew that he would have to hear it for himself.

"I don't know." Her voice is quiet, cracked.

"Is she alive?"

"I don't know." There is a quiver in these words because she knows how hard it was for him to ask that question. She wishes she could give him the answer he needs.

"How long has she been gone?"

"I don't know."

"Like hell you don't!"

She takes a step back, eyes widening at the abrupt change in volume.

"Where is she?" he demands again.

There are tears in her eyes as she insists, "I don't know."

He glares at her with such force that if she did know the answers they would be pouring out of her.

"Phil –"

"No." His volume is reset to low, but the venom in that word is somehow worse than the raised voice. "You don't get to - … No."

She nods her understanding, heart breaking a little more. "But I don't know where she is. I don't know how long I've been here… I didn't even know that I wasn't… me."

"Her. You're not her."

"I know."

"Simmons said you were bleeding from the abdomen and you tried to refuse to go to the infirmary."

She holds his gaze but can't bring herself to respond.

"You knew." He takes a step closer. "Where is she?"

"I figured it out… But I don't know anything else."

"You 'figured it out'?"

The flippant tone is like a knife to her chest. "I can't give you any answers."

"When did you figure it out? You can give me that."

She can give him that. And she's known all this time that she would have to. It doesn't make it any easier. She takes a breath, stands as straight as she can to face the coming onslaught. "Three weeks ago."

It's devastation that crosses his face first. "Three weeks?" She hears the unspoken, _'So none of it was her'_ then watches fear take over. "Might that be when Radcliffe decided it was time to disappear?"

"I didn't tell him anything."

"You didn't tell anyone anything."

"I tried to tell you."

"I think I'd remember that."

"You refused to listen."

"I ref - … That was your attempt? That wasn't trying to tell me. If you'd been trying to tell me, you would have told me."

"I couldn't."

"You wouldn't."

"No. I _couldn't_. You asked me what _I_ wanted. You told me to forget everything else –"

"You knew I didn't have all the information."

"I know, but if our roles were reversed… If you knew that telling her the truth would mean you would lose everything. If she was standing in front of you offering you everything you had ever wanted –"

"'Ever'?" he scoffed, "I don't know how long you've been here, but –"

"I love you. _I_ love you. I remember everything. Our missions; the day you died; finding out you were still alive… I remember every single time that I have been terrified that you weren't coming back… I was scared, Phil, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you… Tell me you wouldn't have done the same!"

He stares at her for a long moment but he doesn't tell her that.

He doesn't say anything.

Eventually he must accept that she doesn't know anything more useful because he just turns and walks away.

"What happens now?" she calls after him.

He pauses on the threshold and looks back at her. "Now we find her."

… … …


	3. Chapter 3

3.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry."

The face looking back at her doesn't flinch. There is absolutely no reaction to give away how the real Melinda May feels about that apology.

Since the other woman stepped into her cell, the decoy has been trying to work out why May is there. There has been nothing to give that away either.

She had half-expected this visit. Were their roles reversed, she'd have struggled to resist the curiosity of wanting to go and see her double for herself. But, at the same time, she would have wanted to strangle the imposter – especially once she found out about Coulson. And May would know that damaging the LMD was not an option. Avoidance was safer.

So she couldn't figure out why they now stood face to face; couldn't predict what was to come next. Although this unnerving silence should have been her first guess – it has always been her greatest tool.

May could be studying her; she could be observing her; she could be contemplating all the ways she'd like to hurt her. The latter is quite likely. And she knows it's not because of the intrusion on her life. It's because her actions have hurt Coulson. She has lied to everyone in May's life about who she was, but none of that matters to the real May as much as the fact that she deceived Coulson.

"You'd have told him," the LMD observes.

She gets no response.

"How can you do that? How can you sacrifice what you want all the time?" That's an inclination that she has failed to understand since she realised who she really is. Maybe it was her programming; maybe it was her fear, but her feelings for Coulson became more important than the wall she had built around herself. She couldn't believe she had never reached that point before.

May offers no explanation. She suspects she has not got one to offer, even if she wanted to.

"I was going to tell him. But I knew what would - How could I accept a life without him in it? I - ... I couldn't do it. I am sorry if you suffered in the meantime but - I couldn't- I can't-... How am I supposed to live without him?"

She notices the tiniest flicker of pain in May's eyes, knows what she is remembering.

"I know we've done it before, but not- It wasn't like this. That time there were what ifs and suppressed regrets. Now I know. I know exactly what I've lost… He loves you. He loves you, fiercely and absolutely. And for a moment... that was me."

Tears sting her eyes and she thinks she sees sympathy from May but it's gone so quickly she can't be sure. She knows there's no point asking about it. Just as she knows there is no point continuing her explanations. May knows how she feels. She may never have admitted it out loud, but there's no way she has been through all that she has with Coulson and not fallen in love with him.

She takes a deep breath and prepares to finally face the fact that it's all over. "You'll take care of him?" she checks, expecting only further silence and bland expression in reply. She knows the answer anyway.

So she's surprised when May gives voice to it. "Always."

Meeting her eyes, she nods to show her gratitude for that reassurance.

May will take care of him.

It's all she's ever done.

So before the other woman can leave she offers her the only reassurance she can:

"The risk… He's worth it."

… … …


	4. Chapter 4

4.

He looks up at her when she walks into his office. "You've spoken to her?"

"She spoke to me."

He smiles at that and she's certain it's the first real smile she has seen from him since she got back.

"And?"

"I believe her."

Disbelief creases his brow. "You believe her?"

She nods once. That should be all it takes.

He puts down his pen and stands slowly from his chair, all the while staring at her intensely. The panic in his eyes reminds her that – at least for a while – it will take more than it used to for him to trust his instincts when it comes to her.

"Relax, Phil. It's – I'm me… But, I believe her… She didn't know that she wasn't me."

"Until she did."

"Until she did - "

"At which point she should have –"

"Phil, her fear of losing you is real."

They haven't talked about the feelings that were obviously shared between Phil and her replacement. He is visibly uncomfortable every time someone merely mentions the time she was away. So it's become something else they just don't discuss.

Predictably, he squirms now, and looks away from her. "It's programmed." He fiddles with the papers on his desk, shuffling them into a pile.

She takes a step closer and pointedly tells him, "It's real."

His hands still, resting on top of the stack and after a second's pause, he raises his head so his eyes can meet hers.

"She has my memories of our past. Whether she was programmed to get close to you or not, her basic programming to be me would give her a fear of losing you."

"But you would have told me the truth anyway."

"I have always done whatever I could to prevent losing you. She just did the same."

"Why are you defending her?"

"Why are you determined to blame her?"

He doesn't verbalise his answer but she hears it in the pain of his expression.

"The alternative is to blame Radcliffe, not you."

"I should have noticed –"

"You weren't supposed to notice."

"Still… What if we hadn't –"

"But you did. And I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"I'll be better once you stop feeling guilty."

"Might take a while… I have a fear of losing you, too, you know."

"I know… But I'm right here."

She's getting used to the glimpses of disappointment that he just can't control. It's slowly getting easier to not take them personally.

She offers him a sympathetic smile then turns to leave.

"Melinda…"

She turns back.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

"I know enough. And if you want me to know any more, you'll tell me when you're ready."

The frown that flickers across his forehead indicates that he doesn't know whether she is referring to him telling her what happened with the decoy or to him telling her how he feels about her.

She's not sure which she means either.

So she smiles again and leaves him to wonder.

… … …


End file.
